Scarecrow
To those poor, sad souls forced to live in Millennium City's Row district: the destitute, the homeless and poor, the criminals, Scarecrow is the word for God. They live and breath by his will alone, and reports of people or entire families disappearing after having been seen with Scarecrow's agents are the rule, not the exception. There can be no doubt that of all the criminals in Paradigm City, only the Overlord Scarecrow signifies true horror. He is the bogeyman of Paradigm City. Almost as many residents of Paradigm City are afraid of Scarecrow as they are of Rictus. And they should be. Origin All right, Dr. Crane. Now that you are relaxed, we're going to go back to your earliest memories. We'll find out what makes you tick, as it were. I'd like you to count backwards from ten along with me. Focus on the sound of my voice. Ten. Nine. Eight... Tell me about your childhood. I was born Johnathan Jason Crane. I had no siblings. My father was David Crane, the very same David Crane that played for the Paradigm City Rams for twelve years before he retired and became a coach. My father was ashamed of me. He had expected his only boy to be an athlete, a powerhouse of meat and tissue that found joy in waging war over a ovoid of stuffed leather that serves no real purpose. I was asicklt child, prone to infections and the migraine headaches that plagued my mother. David Crane never made it a secter, his disdain for me. I learned in turn to make no secret of mine for him. I won't say he was physically abusive because that would be a falsehood. But verbally, he was a crown prince. Words strijke much harder into the heart than a fist, and verbal assaults never heal. My mother, be contrast, loved me dearly. She loved me to the point of doting. Ellen Hatcher-Crane was just a lovely woman, she really was. She was a natural caregiver by nature. Everyone's ills and problems were her ills and problems and she would stop at nothing to solve them. She never o much as had a thought about her own welfare. David Cran did not deserve a woman like that. She was a good mother. Three square meals daily with a multi-vitamin at each breakfast, limited sugary intakes and snacking between meals but wasn't so neurotic that she would disallloow them entirely, as many new mothers do. I am not ashamed, I have ever been ashamed to say that I loved her just as much, and I still miss her. It was Ellen whom initially suspected that the failure of my physiology might be compensated through a power and linear psychology. On my seventh birthday she took me to a book store and allowed me my chouice of five books. Two were of psychology, one was of biochemistry, one of chemistry. The fifth was Mutts, which remains my favorite. Your mother, by contrast, loved you dearly. She loved you so much in fact that she was afraid to let you out of her sight. If it were sixty degrees out you were wrapped tightly in an onslaught of clothing so that you wouldn't catch cold. Sugary treats and drinks were forbidden, as was junk food because forbid you should eat a slice of pizza and die of an immediate cardiac event. Your mother, like your father, was a neurotic. She was afraid of losing you. Every scraped knee was a rush to the emergency room, every pat given to a stray dog was an immediate scrubbing head to toe to rid you of germs, fleas, and every one of the thousand diseases that animals carried. Now let's jump forward a bit. You entered high school younger than most, you were thirteen while your peers were at the youngest three years older. Do you remember that time? Oh I see that you do. It was a painful experience? How the older boys called you Ichabod ''and scarecrow because of your thin build and rather...unfortunate...physical appearance. You were lonely. Tell me about your first love. A Russian girl, wasn't she? The daughter of a shipping magnate? You wood her in secret, taking joy in watching her smile when she received cards, candy, and roses from her secret admirer. And yet when you worked up the courage to finally approach she broke your heart. She was afraid of you. Pity. Then college, when you made the choice to enter medical school to study fears and phobias, hoping to make a breakthrough. Your collegues, they laughed at your outlandish ideas, your theory that fear was not an innate trait of the species but something that was learned. Something that could be controlled and possibly even eradicated. This is about the time you started injecting yourself with your serums, wasn't it? Tell me, which serum was it that proved your theory? The first? The last? Or was it a culmination of all of them? In either case, you were proven correct. You lost the ability to feel fear in any form. Oh, the other side effects were beneficial as well: the increased strength and agility, the ability to sense phobias in others. But it was your toxin that was your greatest breakthrough. You learned how to create a weaponized aerosol that could induce panic in others. But I'm wondering, Dr. Crane. What turned you to a life of crime? What was it that made you decide to experiment on the greatest subjects of all, the gods among us? The superheroes. Was it revenge? A lust for power? Curiosity to see what they would do? Or perhaps all three? Regardless, you earned a name for yourself. You gathered legions, a kingdom of your own and finally the crown of crowns: Advent Overlord. We've come far, you and I. Full circle. The man without fear. I, Dr. Johnathan Crane. I, Scarecrow. Appearance & Personality Outside of the mien of Scarecrow, Dr. Johnathan Crane is a less than imposing figure. He stands six feet tall and weighs 140 pounds. His hair is cropped short, and he wears thick glasses that make his brown eyes look gigantic. One would never guess this almost comical looking man is one of the most feared criminals in Paradigm City. As Scarecrow, he is a true nightmare in shabby genteel, burlap, and festooned with ammo clips, guns, and a small shotgun. He wears a horrifying mask that gives him supplemental abilities (see below). He wears a glove on his right hand rather like the infamous Freddy Krueger glove, with blades fashioned of vibranium. Scarecrow is overcome by curiosity. He loves spraying superheroes with his fear toxin or any number of derivatives and new experimental formulas to see what will happen. He's not one for death traps; most of the death traps her places heroes in are in their own heads. He is cold, calculating, and has absolutely no sense of compassion, sympathy, or mercy. Quote "I am interested in seeing how you are going to react to a new serum I've just recently invented..." Powers, Skills, & Talents Scarecrow's self-experimentation has imbued him with a small arsenal of superhuman abilities. His reflexes and agility have been amplified several times, he is able to evade gunfire and dodge most attack forms if he is aware that attack is forthcoming. He also possesses super-human strength, allowing him to lift and carry approximately two tons. He can, with a bit of focusing, detect any outstanding fears or phobias within a target, he need only lock eyes with a victim to be privy to this bit of trivia. Scarecrow is completely immune to fear in any form. As such, he is not prone to being startled, susceptible to anxiety or panic attacks, and cannot be affected by any superhuman power that utilizes fear as a source, affect, or special effect. Far too many people make the mistake of thinking that because Scarecrow can't feel feer he is overconfident but they are quite wrong; there is a difference between not being afraid and having no common sense. Scarecrow's primary form of attack is a variety of weaponized chemical sprays that are housed in the gauntlets he wears on each wrist. Most of these sprays inflict fear in some form: they cause enemies to fly into blind panics, cower and wet themselves in sheer terror, or suffer horrific auditory and visual hallucinations. Because the toxins require that they be inhaled or absorbed through the skin, Scarecrow can't affect people in powered armor suits or are otherwise protected. He is a formidable marksman, wielding a pair of .45s and a stakeout shotgun which is filled with incendiary rounds. The glove he wears, backed by his strength, allows him to punch or slice through any known substance. Scarecrow is a genius in the fields of chemistry, biochemistry, and pharmacology. He is a trained psychiatrist and physician, specializing in the detection and treatment of phobias. The Unseelie Court The Court is Scarecrow's tongue-in-cheek name for his agents, thugs, and henchmen. Within The Row, the Court is made up primarily of Chromatic Dragons whom handle all the heavy duty work that Scarecrow demands. In addition to the Dragons Scarecrow employs three men, the Nightmares, whom were built to his specifications by his friend Echo Johnson of Olympic Industries. These three thugs are meta-humans, and act as Scarecrow's generals and personal bodyguards. They are Pestilence, Revulsion, and Methomania. '''Pestilence '-- The leader of the Unseelie Court appears as a shuffling, hunched over homeless man seemingly detatched from reality, constantly mumbling and whispering to himself. Pestilence is able to control vermin, like a queen bee directing her troops. He attacks foes with swarms of bugs and other miniscule horrors: cockroaches, spiders, flies, rats; any vermin within fifty feet leap to his command. He constantly carries his own swarms with him; beetles and other such creepy crawlies can always be seen cruising languidly over his body. Revulsion '''-- This terrifying apparition of a man appears as a painfully thin human being pockmarked with boils and leprous lesions. A tremendous reek heralds his coming and flies buss around him constantly. Revulsion is able to physically take hold of a foe and inflict them with any disease he desires, from a common cold to a lethal virus. Revulsion's power requires contact with skin, so armored superheroes are-thankfully-immune to his power. Revulsion gained infamy the day he was created when he grabbed a hold of the Olympic Industries surgeon whom has given him his power. That surgeon spent the last 10 minutes of his life dying simultaneously from bone cancer, AIDS, and multiple sclerosis. '''Methomania-- tends to pluck heart-strings when first met. She was obviously once beautiful. That beauty is gone now, eaten away by drug abuse, neglect, and disease. Methomania brings addiction. Drugs, alcohol, sex, gambling; whatever addiction she chooses is inflicted by touch. The first touch creates an addiction that last 24 hours. The next touch creates a life-long addiction that requires intense therapy to overcome. With the third touch Methomania inflicts madness. The victim will do whatever it takes to end their pain whether it be theft, murder, or even suicide.